


Dragons Among Us

by Wingedauthoress14



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-11 14:43:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19111807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wingedauthoress14/pseuds/Wingedauthoress14
Summary: After a thousand years, the black dragon Acnologia stirs from his slumber. For a millennia, humans and dragons have been divided by violence, prejudice, and hate. The Dragon slayers are the world's only hope to unite them and defend the world from certain destruction.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! It's been a while since I wrote a fanfic so I thought, 'Hey! I wanna try this again!' And soooooo here we are. Enjoy!

Dust rose up beneath Metalicana's talons as he landed, his vision obscured until he beat his heavy wings, clearing the air. He breathed in deeply and growled. Despite the open terrain, everything smelled musty and stale, a land locked away and forgotten. Even the colors were muted. Soft greys made the rocks jutting out of the earth appear fuzzy, while dark clouds swirled above, a tempest held at bay. Why he chose to meet here of all places… 

As though thought alone summoned him, a beat of wings sounded overhead, accompanied by a wave of heat and the scent of sulfur. Igneel landed heavily beside Metalicana, dust flying up once again.  
"I wondered when I might see you," Igneel greeted Metalicana as the air cleared, his great voice like thunder. "Though I must say, I am surprised to see you at all. I believed the affairs of humans were beneath you."

"They are," Metalicana stared straight ahead, refusing to meet the red dragon's eye. "But this concerns dragons as well, and being one of those, I wish to know what is going on."  
The red dragon nodded. "I doubt you are alone in that standing."

Metalicana snorted. Igneel would be siding with humans, of course, but he'd always found them to be too much of a fuss. They were loud, unruly, and had a greed that rivaled that of dragons themselves. 

No, this meeting would merely to pacify his own curiosity. 

They walked until they reached an immense stone circle with a raised dais in the center. A dragon with pearl-colored feathers perched outside the circle.

"Grandeeney," Igneel greeted her. "It is good to have you both here. Now all we need are-"

"We are here, Igneel," a booming voice called out. Above them soared two dragons—one completely white with feathers protruding from his ruff, and the other, black as shadow itself. They circled and landed next to Grandeeney. "I believe it will only be the five of us," the white dragon, Weisslogia said. 

"We have not heard from any of the others," the black dragon, Skiadrum shook his head. "That could be problematic."

"It will be," a hoarse whisper floated across the air to the group. An immense dragon with dark scales that reflected the sky ascended the dais. Upon closer inspection, his scales were cracked at the ends, and he bore several long, deep scars that ran from his shoulder to his lighter underbelly. One eye was completely white, while the other was as clouded as the skies. Long trails of white feathers flowed from above his eyes and beneath his nose, ruffling with each breath. 

"I trust you have a reason for gathering us all here, Igneel," it said, its words slow but clear. 

Igneel nodded. "Thank you for joining us, Chronologia," he turned to the rest of the dragons. "We have all been sensing Acnologia growing stronger. Though he may still be trapped, he will not stay that way forever. Once he gets out, he will wreak vengeance on us all." He turned to Chronologia. "Can you confirm this?"

The aged dragon nodded slowly. "I have seen it. He will start in the human world first...then come to us." The soft coughing that came from him turned out to be a laugh. "Not that he can do much to me."

"You may be immortal, but the rest of us are not," Grandeeney shot at him before looking at Igneel. "You have an idea, I assume?"

"I do, but it will involve cooperation," Igneel said. He looked around at all of them before saying: "We need to join together with the humans if we are to survive Acnologia's wrath."

A stunned silence fell from all the dragons at this suggestion. 

"Join...with humans?" Grandeeney mused. 

"It is...risky," Skiadrum shook his head. "But...there are quite powerful wizards among them."

"But how would we do such a thing?" asked Weisslogia. "We have not been among humans since the wars. We have not forgotten them, and neither will have they." 

"You cannot be entertaining this idea," Metalicana growled at all of them. "Join with humans? How much could they possibly help?"

"They can have great power," Igneel insisted. "I have seen it myself."

"There is no way this will work," Metalicana shook his head. "You may as well doom us all with your idiotic ideas."

"Our only hope is the humans!" Igneel roared. "We have no one else with the capabilities to withstand as much magic. If you want to give both our world and theirs even a chance at survival, you will listen to my plan."

Metalicana growled, but said nothing.

"What is your plan, Igneel?" Grandeeney asked in a soft voice.

Igneel turned his neck and ruffled through his left wing. A moment later, he resurfaced, the tip of his jaws clenching a white scarf attached to a sleeping pink-haired boy.

Grandeeney gasped while the rest stared at the small human. Were they usually this small?

“He is my plan,” Igneel said, setting the boy down in front of them. “I am caring for this child and teaching him my magic. I believe he can be a bridge between the world of dragons and the world of humans.”

“A bridge?” Skiadrum asked.

Igneel nodded. "As Weisslogia mentioned, though it has been nearly a hundred years since the wars with the humans, they will neither have forgotten nor forgiven us. No matter how good our motives, they will not tolerate our presence. We need those who trust us, who will also be trusted by humans,” at this, he inclined his head toward the boy. “I believe the best way is to find the humans willing to speak with us and teach them dragon magic. They will become our ambassadors and convince the rest of the humans to join us."

"Now you are joking," Metalicana laughed. "As if humans don't hate us enough, you think they won't hate anyone associated with us as well?"

"A good point," Weisslogia said, turning to Igneel.

"Where would we find these humans?" Grandeeney asked. "Any who are courageous enough to try to find us are sure to be courageous enough to try and kill us," she mused. 

"There are the young humans. The ones without families. This one is named Natsu, and he has no one else to care for him," Igneel said.

"No one would miss them," said Skiadrum. "No one would look for them."

"It could work..." Grandeeney said. "We could find human children, give them homes, teach them our ways. They could connect our worlds peacefully."

Skiadrum and Weisslogia nodded, but Metalicana growled. Take care of a small human? How completely odious. 

Igneel turned to Metalicana. “What do you say, brother? Will you help us?”

Metalicana stared down at that small, pink-haired boy Igneel had called Natsu. What a puny thing he was. No scales, hardly any teeth, and clearly no sense of danger as he lay fast asleep in a thunder of dragons. How were these things supposed to protect themselves? 

How, indeed?

He heaved a sigh that sounded as heavy as his armored scales. “As much as I can try, I do not see a way around this. Yes. I am with you.”

"Excellent," Igneel nodded to Metalicana. “When the time comes, we can combine our magic with theirs and work together to defeat Acnologia."

As if the words floated to Acnologia himself, each dragon felt a shudder in the air. Metalicana braced himself against the pulses until they faded moments later.

"If that is your plan," Chronologia said, "you had best get it started soon. You do not have much time left."


	2. Gajeel Found

Gajeel raced through the crowded streets of Miletus, blurring the white brick buildings, food stands, and animal stalls around him. He ducked under legs and heard several screams erupt behind him with the ruffled of skirts. 

“Stop, thief!” Bigger footsteps pounded close behind him, but he had a steady lead. He wound his way around the market passing stalls stacked high with mounds of spices, colorful fabrics, and baskets of dried fruits. 

He dashed by the last stall where a few chickens sat caged. Their white feathers whirled up in his wake as he passed. Almost there. 

Gajeel turned a corner and slammed into something very heavy and slightly squishy. He fell, hitting his head.

“Damn it,” he muttered, rubbing the smarting spot. He turned to run, but a hand grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt, hauling him up so that his feet no longer touched the ground.

“Think you can steal from me, you little cretin?” The grocer pushed his tanned, pudgy face into Gajeel’s, his foul breath washing over him.

“I didn’t steal nothin’!” Gajeel shouted as his shirt untucked and a loaf of bread, two apples, and a handful of coins fell out, thudding and clattering as they hit the ground.

“Didn’t steal anything, eh?” The grocer yelled with a triumphant smirk. He waved over a couple of guards. “He’s here! I found him!” He turned back to Gajeel, his eyes bright with victory. “You’re in big trouble, young man! Just wait until Belno gets ahold of you!”

“I ain’t goin’ back there!” Gajeel protested, squirming against the grocer’s grip.

The grocer set Gajeel down and the guard took him by the arm. “Come on, kid,” the guard sighed as he started to drag Gajeel away.

“I said ain’t going back!” He yelled. In a swift movement, Gajeel lunged using all his weight and twisted.

It worked—the guard’s grip slackened and Gajeel bolted away. 

He’d never sprinted so fast for so long. Then again, he’d never gotten caught. His footsteps pounded the ground, his flimsy shoes slapping the stone with small, echoing cracks. 

Gajeel ran until he was out of the city, where the white brick faded to tan and the last of the shops and nicer homes fell behind him. It wasn’t until he’d ducked into an alleyway to catch his breath and relieve the stitch in his side that he realized the guard was no longer chasing him. Gajeel rested his back against the wall and slid, hitting the ground with a thump.

The danger behind him, Gajeel’s anger grew. Damn that grocer—he was always watching Gajeel, always ready for him to steal. 

And damn that orphanage—he was never going back to that place. The old hag expected him to just sit still in those lessons all day, then if he didn’t feel like it, he’d get his knuckles rapped? He was better off in the streets, even if he was hungrier than he’d ever been.

Gajeel’s stomach growled and he stood. Better off or not, he still needed food. In one of the old hag’s lessons, he remembered that fruit sometimes grew on trees. But…trees didn’t grow from white brick or stone walkways. 

An enormous creaking made him jolt. He peeked out of the alleyway and saw a tarp-covered cart drawn by horses parked near the city’s gates, which were beginning to open. A glimpse of rolling green hills and bright blue sky greeted him. There had to be food out there. In any case, it was better than what he had now.

The gates opened fully and Gajeel’s heart leapt. If he was going, he needed to go now.

The guards’ backs were turned as they opened the gate, and Gajeel sprinted out, careful to soften his step. He grabbed ahold of the edge of the cart and hauled himself up, landing in the bed. In one swift motion, he lifted the tarp and scrambled under it, a heavy metallic scent greeting him in the puff of air. He pushed aside two heavy wooden crates marked “Nails” and nestled between them on his stomach, making sure to reach out cover everything back up with the tarp. 

Gajeel had no sooner tugged the tarp back into place when the cart started to move. Gajeel held his breath, worried that even his breathing might give him away. As the tarp flapped, he caught a glimpse of the pudgy-faced grocer and the guard who had chased him. They peered down the alleyways, shaking their heads. The grocer’s face was redder than Gajeel had ever seen.

Resisting the urge to burst out laughing, Gajeel nestled down between the crates and waited.

As they passed through the gates, the world became different. The sunlight was stronger, the air cleaner. A groaning sound made him look through the gap in the tarp, and he watched as the gates closed on Miletus, the only home he’d ever known. 

His face broke into a wide grin. Gone were the days of sitting in a stifling room, getting his knuckles rapped, sleeping on dirty doormats, or having angry grocers scream in his face.  
For the first time, the world felt…like his. 

Ignoring the jab of hunger in his stomach, Gajeel laid his head on his arms. The sun warmed the inside of the cart, while the cart rolled along the smooth road. He blinked slowly once, and then again. By the next blink, he was asleep. 

The cart stopped with a jolt and the piercing whinnies of the horses broke Gajeel out of his dozing. Thirsty and disoriented, he raised his head, breathing heavily until he remembered where he was. 

 

The cart shifted and something hit the ground followed shortly by the jingle of reigns and a shushing noise. “What’s gotten into you girls?” He asked, his voice sounding muffled from Gajeel’s spot beneath the tarp. Gajeel’s heart gave a jolt—if the driver caught him, what if he brought him back to the city?

Gajeel got up and clambered out of the back of the cart. His feet hit the ground hard and the driver, who had bent over to check one of his horse’s hooves, stood and turned.

“Who’s there?” He called, pulling out a small dagger from his belt. “I’m armed, I warn you.”

Gajeel sprinted to the trees, the muscles in his legs already aching from fleeing the guards that morning. He flew past the line of trees and became enveloped in verdant shade. He wove through the trees, but without the smooth stone of the marketplace, he stumbled over roots and rocks. His foot slammed into a twig, causing it to snap and scratch his shin. He heard the driver call out, but his voice quickly faded as Gajeel trekked deeper into the forest.

When Gajeel glimpsed back and could no longer see the road, he paused to take a few deep breaths. He now shook with hunger, his limbs feeling as though they were tied with weights. He looked around at the forest. This was what the old had had been talking about, so where was the fruit? The world around him was a vibrant green, but how much good did that do him?

Though no stranger to a missed meal, Gajeel’s stomach twisted at the thought of there being no wild bounty in this wide, open world. All these damn trees, and no fruit? What gives? He thought savagely.

Clutching his middle, Gajeel walked until he spotted streaks of brown-red beyond the leaves. He reached the edge of the forest, where a rocky terrain sprawled out beneath a sky which was made all the bluer in contrast with the reddish tinge of the ground.

“Sure as hell isn’t any food out here,” he muttered to himself. He turned to go back into the forest when thunder reached his ears.

“I would not say that. You look and smell much like food yourself.”

Gajeel froze. Thunder didn’t speak. He broke into a cold sweat and turned.

A creature stood before him, bigger than any building he’d ever seen—even bigger than the palace at the center of Miletus. Sunlight reflected off its silvery plates and its wingspan looked as it if could shade the city itself. Its underbelly was covered in a plate that looked like the chainmail he’d seen on palace guards.

Gajeel swallowed dryly, breathing heavy as he fell backward. This was…this was…

He reached out, looking for…anything. His hand found something rough and long—a stick! Gajeel stood and brandished the stick at the dragon.

“I ain’t scared of you!” He roared, baring his teeth. “Get outta here!”

The dragon let out a low rumble. It was a moment before Gajeel realized it was laughing. 

“You’ve got a nasty look in your eye,” the dragon said. “But there’s also a great deal of courage.”

Gajeel sneered. “There’s a lot more than that if you start messin’ with me!” His stomach growled and he blushed.

The dragon laughed again, deep and slow. “I have food,” in a massive movement, it turned to go, stepping with a massive foot that shook the rocky earth. “Come along, if you wish.”

“An’ if I don’t?” Gajeel spat, though he licked his lips.

“Then starve. It is of no concern to me,” the dragon kept walking.

Gajeel stood for a moment then bolted after the dragon.

The sun had almost fully set by the time they’d reached their destination—a cave in the outcroppings made of the red rocks. Just outside of the cave was a cheerful fire, on top of which roasted an enormous boar on a spit.

The scent made Gajeel’s mouth water and he bolted over. He’d seen pigs in the marketplace, but never a boar of this size. He looked up at the dragon who reached out a talon and cut off a slab, handing it to Gajeel. He took it, juggling it slightly to avoid burning his hands, before taking a huge bite out of it. He grinned as he wiped the juices rolling down his chin.

“My name is Metalicana,” the dragon said after Gajeel had polished off his fourth slice of the pork. Metalicana had to ask Igneel for that bit of fire, but seeing the small human fall on the roast boar with such gusto made it almost worth swallowing his pride. “I am the iron dragon.”

“I’m Gajeel,” Gajeel said, licking the grease off his fingers. “What d’you mean the iron dragon? You mean you’re made of iron?”

“Yes. There are other dragons of light, fire, shadow, and sky, but none command iron magic as I do.”

“You can do magic?” Gajeel gasped, jumping to his feet. “Lemme see!”

Metalicana laughed that soft thunderous laugh and immense iron poles jutted out from the ground around Gajeel, who yelped and landed on his backside. 

“Wow!” Gajeel looked around, eyes wide with glee as he rushed up to examine the poles. Metalicana surged with pride. His magic was amazing.

“You gotta teach me, Metalicana!” Gajeel demanded. The boy even had the nerve to stomp his foot. 

“Get that ugly look out of your eye, and I will teach you everything I know.”

By the end of the next day, Gajeel had caught on to the basics of iron dragon magic quickly. The great iron dragon looked down at the small boy with a rush of pride and protection. He would learn quickly, and that was the best either of them could do.

“Metalicana,” Gajeel asked a few days later as they broke their training for a leftover lunch of the roasted boar. “Are there other people who can do iron dragon magic?”

“No. You are the only one,” Metalicana said, swallowing a mouthful of scrap metal. “Don’t forget to have that screw finished by the end of your lunch. It is important to your training.”

“How come I’m the only one?” Gajeel asked, nibbling on the end of the screw. 

Metalicana paused. Though days had passed since he’d taken Gajeel under his wing, he still hadn’t told him what lay in his future.

“I chose you because I found you,” Metalicana finally said. “You needed a home, and I—the other dragons as well—needed someone to pass on their magic to.”

“Huh?” Gajeel cocked his head. “I don’t get it.”

Metalicana grumbled. It was one thing to discuss the possibility of the world ending with other dragons, but they’d never talked about how to tell the young ones they were to adopt. I will have words with Igneel for this, he thought, crunching a stubborn bolt between his massive jaws. 

“Very well. You deserve to know,” Metalicana looked down at Gajeel. “There is a threat to this world,” Metalicana said. “And the time has come for humans and dragons to stand alongside each other. I will teach you my magic, and when you are grown, you—along with other dragon magic users—will go back into the human world and tell them of this threat. It is the only way we can all be united against this threat.”

“Sounds boring,” Gajeel bit off a piece of the screw and chewed on it, leaning back to lounge on the ground. “But I do like the part where you teach me magic!”

Metalicana sighed. Perhaps he was too young to understand. Well, he tried. Metalicana opened his mouth to say something else, then paused. It was faint, but familiar pulses reverberated in the air.   
“What’s up?” Gajeel sat up, noticing Metalicana had fallen silent.

“Get up,” Metaliana said, looking into the distance. “There is much that needs to be done.”

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A/N: Thanks for reading! And I'd like to thank Evillaughter for commenting and iSpitonFire for commenting and leaving a kudos. I'd love to hear your thoughts on my work and see how I can improve. Until next time, happy reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it and I'd love to hear your feedback. Until next time, happy reading!


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